


Nobody to call my own

by NL7



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Comfort question mark?, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, kind of a character study I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NL7/pseuds/NL7
Summary: Miky missed everything about Perkz.
Relationships: Mihael "Mikyx" Mehle/Luka "PerkZ" Perković
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Nobody to call my own

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song "Mr. Sandman" (was listening to SYML's cover on loop while writing this)

He missed him.

He missed the warmth of his body in his bed. He missed his sleepy voice and the rumble of his good morning’s, he missed his endearing snores and his strong arms draped over his chest. He missed the comfort of his heartbeat against his ear. He missed the prickle of his stubble and his chuckle when he complained about it, he missed the soft skin behind his ear and he missed the way kissing him right there always made him flush happily. 

He missed his loud wholehearted laugh. He missed his cocky smirk and his flirty undertone, he missed his witty banter and his taunting arrogance. He missed his dramatic antics and his playful pout. He missed his caring touch and his fussing over their younger friend, he missed his consoling pats and his proud grin whenever he did well. He missed his protective biting words. He missed his charisma and his ever-confident presence.

He missed his quiet muttering on bad days. He missed the sorry glances he cast to the floor, embarrassed by his helplessness. He missed the soft way he would brush his hand to surrender his leadership and his hesitantly relieved smile when he accepted to carry his burden. He missed his slumped shoulders and his tired face, he missed his brown tufts of hair barely peeking out from the thick blanket he wrapped himself in. He missed finding him in his bed at the end of the day, already dozing off, waiting for him to put on some anime so that he could cuddle him until the heavy feeling went away. 

His frustrated groans and his angry shouts. His dark possessiveness and the pink-blue-purple tinges it left on his milky skin. The way he sometimes got annoyed at his nervous twitches, tried to make him stop by laying his hand on his knee. His obsession with reaching the high standards that they kept raising, his heart-wrenching dread of failing the audience. The way he kept falling into the same vicious circle, growing stubborn over meeting his impossible goals and neglecting himself in the process. The way he forgot about the important things in his life. The way he needed to be reminded of them, once in a while.

God, Miky missed it all.

The good and the bad, the ugly and the most gorgeous.

The excited giggles when they messed up together, golden sunlight clashing against sickly reddish screens. The resentment that fed into fast-burning passion, rash irritation turning into teasing push-and-pull, leisurely edging and ravenously devouring in turns. The utterly soft kisses between the sheets, fitting against each other as if they had been made just for this short-lived moment. Stretching time as boldly as they could afford it. Taking each other apart and stitching themselves back together, again and again, like a well-worn sweater that they kept rediscovering. 

So desperate to learn every nook and cranny, so terrified of losing it all. 

Miky sighed, turning over in his cold, cold bed.

He missed him.


End file.
